


A Bad Habit

by almostalwaysahermit



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, One-Shot, imaginary sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8333071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostalwaysahermit/pseuds/almostalwaysahermit
Summary: What Alison does when she can't fall asleep.





	

Alison pulls the oak chair from underneath her dresser slowly, careful not to let it come into contact with the drawers on either side. She holds onto it with both hands and leans on it slightly, steadying herself as the ghost of a thought swirls before her eyes. It takes shape as she takes a breath - a shadow of a face then a whisper against her lips, and then fingertips pressing slightly on her right cheek. She opens her mouth in response and lets a moan escape. She barely hears it over the voice in her head that’s telling her to do what she knows she has to do to sleep.

She drags the chair toward the full-length mirror next to her closet until she and it appear in a reflection. She takes a second to look at herself, at her disheveled blonde hair that pools around her shoulders; at her legs that emerge from the ends of her oversized t-shirt; and just how desperate she looks, staring at her own reflection as if waiting for it to give her permission to straddle the oak chair and grind against it.

A breath hitches in her throat – a small sign of guilt over what she’s about to do.

She pulls her shirt over her head and lets it drop to her feet, her attention expertly fixed on her reflection throughout the entire motion until her gaze falls upon the sight of her exposed breasts and the thin trail of blonde pubic hair that covers her sex. She swallows, much too aware of the sudden quickening of her heartbeat that melds with the blurred image that she forces herself to see standing next to her reflection, its dark brown eyes boring into hers as its arms wrap around her torso from behind. “ _Ali…”_ she imagines it saying. And she replies with aching need: “Emily…”

She sits herself down and Emily’s image follows without a word. She spreads her legs as she lowers herself down to the oak surface and she can’t help but sigh when her clit comes into contact with it. She swears she hears Emily giggle at her reaction and she smiles at the thought.

 _“You’re perfect,”_ she hears Emily say as she brings both hands up toward her chest to grab a breast each. They’re full and warm against her palms and she lets her nipples protrude in between her fingers as she squeezes, savoring the feeling of being touched. Her eyes flutter shut at the sensation but only for a moment, opting to look at herself in the mirror all throughout this sequence of movements that she had perfected out of necessity.

She lowers her right hand from her right breast and lets her fingers run along the middle of her stomach until they reach a tuft of hair inches below her bellybutton. _“You’re so wet, Ali.”_ A slight chill runs up her spine at the thought of Emily saying these words out loud while staring up at her with those brown eyes from a kneeling position in between her spread legs. And before she can complete the thought, she lets a finger glide just above her moist clit before letting it slip past the folds until she reaches a warm tightening within. “ _Fuck_ , Em.”

She quivers at the extent of the penetration and twice as much when she pulls out, deliberately curling the finger hard against the nub underneath the slick folds. A groan reverberates at the back of her throat the moment she slips the finger back in, thinking all the while that it’s Emily’s tongue slithering up the length of her sex instead. She watches her body react to the thought, how her reflection shows her abdomen contracting with every push and pull, how her nails dig into the supple skin of her breast to add to the building pressure, and how she raises her hips without thinking just to meet her palm with every thrust, still stuck with the image of Emily’s hair splayed across her thighs and the feel of Emily’s tongue flicking against her now-throbbing clit. _“You’re close, aren’t you, Ali?”_

“Yes,” comes a breathy reply. Alison and her reflection say it at the same time.

She bucks her hips to the rhythm of her thrusts, quickly adding a second finger to push against the growing tightening. She lets her left hand leave her left breast and uses it instead to hold onto the side of the chair to steady herself. She quickens her pace, imagining Emily getting impatient and rough with her. The lingering feeling of a pair of hands cupping her buttocks adds to the sensation and she gives in to the fantasy where Emily wraps her lips around her clit, pulls it into her mouth and sucks on it slowly, leaving her to agonize over being so close yet so far from climax, then catching her off-guard with a quick thrust of her fingers just past the right spot, _over and over._

“Fuck, Emily! _Fuck_!”

She sees herself tremble, her reflection mimicking every spasm that’s running through her body right now. Her heaving breasts. Her faltering hold on the side of the chair. Her blonde locks sticking to the sweat on her cheeks. She moves her right hand from in between her thighs, and she shudders when her fingers slip out past the folds and against her still-throbbing clit. She can barely think, still coming down from the peak of the climax.

_“I love you, Alison.”_

She swears she hears Emily say it, but she knows that’s just part of the high. Her reflection stares back at her as if judging her for what she had done. _I should be used to this by now,_ she thinks to herself as she drags herself back to her bed and crawls under the covers. She curls up into a ball and she presses her hands close to her chest, embracing what’s left of her supposed satisfaction, of what Emily could have made her feel had she really been here and had she really wanted Alison as badly as Alison imagined she would.

She allows herself a minute to breathe and to feel the exhaustion wash over her, waiting for it to be enough to lull her to sleep, for the thought of Emily Fields fucking her senseless to seep into her dreams and get her through another night.


End file.
